Perfect Lie 소설 & 이야기

Elena's heels glinted in the light, as Maria placed them on the floor in front of Elena. With a gentle movement, Elena lowered her feet into the heels, her toes sliding into the sleek interior. She stood tall, her leg extended as the heel seemed to mould itself to her leg, its glass surface glinting as she moved. Maria's hands went up and down, then came to rest to her sides, her eyes cast downwards as she bowed her head. "You look breathtaking."Maria's lips barely parted, her voice a soft sigh that seemed to dissolve in the air. Elena's gaze met Maria's, a soft smile playing on her lips."Thank you, Maria. You've outdone yourself."

Writing this book allowed me to delve into the intricacies of human emotions, and I’m grateful for every moment you spent with these characters. Thank you for allowing me to share this story with you. May the essence of Perfect Love lingers in your hearts long after the last word. With all my love, Clara J. Stari

"You've become everything I knew you could be." "And what's that?" He stopped walking and turned to face me. His silver eyes were intense, burning with something that made my skin tingle. "Perfect," he said simply. "You're perfect." The word hit me wrong. Perfect. That's what they had all said about Celeste. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect bloodline. Perfect enough to steal my mate and destroy my life. "I don't want to be perfect," I said. "Then what do you want to be?"

"Your favorite moonstone's been protecting you this whole time. I hope it keeps bringing you good luck." A faint blush crept onto her face. She glanced at him shyly and whispered, "Simon, you'll always stay by my side too…" Surprise flashed in Simon's eyes. It seemed as if he hadn't expected her to say that. "Laila, I've always seen you as a sister. When Zora agreed to donate her kidney, I promised her she'd always be my mate." Laila's eyes reddened. "But Simon, I love you," she whimpered. "And I know you love me too. Why else would you treat me so well? I don't want to be your sister. I want to be your mate!"

I was surprised to hear her think like that. “What are you saying, Poppy? No one is truly perfect. I'm not even the ideal wife. My husband has his shortcomings too. None of our kids are without their faults. Take Faith, for instance—no matter how kind-hearted he is, I wouldn’t call him perfect. Maybe as a partner, yes, I believe he’ll be a perfect husband for you. But he has his weaknesses too, which means he isn’t perfect either. Every person has their own unique set of flaws, whether they’re physical or mental. That’s what makes us special, Poppy. It’s perfectly okay not to be flawless. Those imperfections help shape our identity. If everyone were perfect, we’d miss out on the chance to le

Bianca found hers near the center of the middle table and sat down. The name card beside her read: Peregrine Solari. She'd never heard the name before. He arrived a moment later. He was tall, dark-haired, with the kind of easy presence that didn't need to announce itself. He slid into the chair beside her and turned with a smile that was open and direct and entirely without performance. "You must be Bianca Ellington." She nodded. "And you're Peregrine Solari?" "Perry, if you'd like. Peregrine is a mouthful." He extended his hand. "I've read about you."

he said finally, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Now that couldn’t be further from the truth,” I replied with complete confidence. “I don’t know who you were before we met or all the things you’ve done, but I know the light that shines through you, Lucian. You are a wonderful person who literally embodies the word perfection. There’s nothing you can say or throw at me that will change my mind on this. You are a good person, and that will never change.”

It's our fifth year together, and I accompany my fiance, Theo Montague, to see the aurora he has always yearned to see. Fortune favors us that night as vivid green lights stretch across the snow-covered plain. He wraps his arms around me from behind and suddenly murmurs, "It's beautiful. Too bad we're still one step short of perfect." I freeze for a moment and ask him what we're missing. He doesn't answer, and I don't press him, either. After all, I've heard this phrase far too many times. When I go to great lengths to get him the out-of-print book he has his sights on for ages, he sighs. "We're still one step short of perfect." When we move into our beautifully furnished house and f

she replied, “I can’t believe we are breaking history, a maid is marrying her boss.” “I don’t think anybody would believe that for you look nothing like a maid.” “But I was a maid.” “Was, but not anymore, you are my imperfect perfection,” he replied that she could only smile and wondered how can they be a perfection that is imperfect? Not getting her answer, she smiled more pronounced and listened to the priest, today is a very big day to her, a day she had looked forward to all her life with the man beside her. And she knew that just as his words ‘imperfect perfection’ confused her, so would their love confuse anyone who tries to ruin them.

she continued, voice barely above the rain, “the only thing I was afraid of was never getting the chance to choose you again.” His chest tightened. “Lisa…!!” She reached for him then, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, not pulling him close….just anchoring herself. “I don’t want perfect,” she said. “I want honest. I want this—whatever this is—messy and real.” Grey rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling, rain blurring the space between them. “You have me,” he said. “No filters. No omissions. Even the parts I hate.”